


The Light Behind Your Eyes

by SilverFaerie



Category: Carpe Noctem, Vampire: The Masquerade, White Wolf, World of Darkness - Fandom
Genre: (technically a song fic), Drabble, F/M, Fluff, The Echo Chamber, vampire/fae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 21:24:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10839726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFaerie/pseuds/SilverFaerie
Summary: Tina is asleep, Demetrios considers things.





	The Light Behind Your Eyes

_Then I’d sing you to sleep, never let them take the light behind your eyes…_

Demetrios shifts, careful not to disturb the sleeping fae beside him, and rearranges himself slowly, untangling his long limbs until he has her safe in his arms where he can watch the flicker of her eyelids as she dreams. Tonight is the last night of their grace period: tomorrow when the sun rises she will meet with the low court, alone, and find out her fate. It pains him to know that she must face them on her own, but they demanded the meeting be in sunlight hours – no backup from the Kindred marketing department. This time, she must fend for herself.

Her wild hair lies in fiery tangles on the pillow and his eyes follow along the curves for a while, his ears listening to her heartbeat and his fingers feeling the vital pulse of her blood where his hands touch her skin. She is so desperately alive, moves with such energy, somehow even in sleep; it make him conscious of the coldness of his own flesh. Using the magic in the blood only worked so well, it couldn’t entirely compensate for the sheer deadness in his body.

After their night together, spent almost entirely behind the locked door in Therese’s basement, Tina had finally declared herself exhausted and curled up under the blankets. There was still an hour or so until the sun dragged him into torpor once more, so he was left alone with his thoughts. Something Therese had said before worried him: something about construction and then deconstruction. As his mind tries to piece together some sort of coherent explanation from the fragments he knows, he pulls her a little closer, breathing in the scent of her skin. 

It’s no good; he doesn’t have enough information on the fae to come up with anything. He’ll ask Therese tomorrow, but for now he tries to clear his thoughts. He lets his mind focus and matches his breathing to the figure beside him; he doesn’t have to anymore, but the constant rhythm of her inhalation and exhalation is soothing. He wonders what she’s dreaming about and, for a brief moment, even considers the use of telepathy to find out. Almost as quickly, he dismisses the idea as a horrible invasion of privacy, a little angry at himself for even considering it. If her dreams were anything of note she would tell him the next night, he was content with that. Though perhaps if he asked on some future night, she’d let him share. He hadn’t dreamed in so long.

She mumbles something unintelligible in her sleep and presses closer to him, her forehead in the crook of his neck. He smiles fondly, pulling the blankets over her exposed shoulders and gently brushes her hair back from her face. The dawn is beginning to pull him into sleep and he sinks down into the pillows, releasing her gently from his arms with a sad sigh. All so she can leave in the morning without having to untangle herself from his torpored body and be reminded once again of their differences. On the best nights they spend together, nights like the one about to end, they barely remember that they’re of different kinds: they are simply two people desperately in love.


End file.
